A CONSTANT THROB

Part I

" Get in the car now."

In Sandor Clegane's line of work idle threats were as common as five hookers to every city block, but he didn't do idle threats and the pouting red head stomping her stiletto heels on the concrete sidewalk like a five year old damn well knew it.

With a rap of his knuckles the passenger side window of the stretch limo rolled down in a smooth hum against the noisy city backdrop. His other hand was searching blindly in his front pocket for the last of the Advil he taken with him this morning; his headache thrumming against his eyelids like an out of control heavy metal drummer

"Yeah what?"

The driver was new. His attitude was probably not. He had the face of an asshole; someone who had been pampered with attention growing up when what he needed was a good ass kicking. The smug up turn of his nose, the pompous squint of his eyes made Sandor itch to deck him. Unfortunately he wasn't in charge of the hiring and firing of the Stark Enterprise otherwise this little prick wouldn't have made it pass the interview.

" We're going home," he ordered, not bothering to hide the personal aversion in his voice. " Make it quick. Take 47th all the way down."

The driver opened his mouth to say something that was of no importance to Sandor and so he walked away, finally finding the last pill of relief from the everlasting dull ache in between his eyes. He gulped it down easy even without the help of water.

Eyeing the door where the little brat of a princess was probably bubbling with complaint after complaint made him sigh upward toward the dark starless sky. Fucking glorified babysitter.

There was a time he used to kill in the name of the great Ned Stark. Bodyguard was his title but personal trained killer was what they paid him the big bucks for.

Now he was reduced to picking up dry cleaning or ordering in food. The days of war and territory were a faint memory with the peace that had overtaken the streets when Ned finally took reign. Sandor was happy for the quiet, obliged the tranquility that laid over the riled city like a invisible comforter, but these fucking bullshit calls to pick up college kids and recite just say no speeches was not what he signed up for.

Peeved at the lack of action in a job he used to thrive at, Sandor swung open the door with more than a little contempt with the situation. The door moaned a bit in protest but he ignored the sound, slamming it shut just as hard and making the little princess next to him jump in her seat.

The corner of his mouth hitched in delight. Good. Maybe she'd shut the hell up and the ride back would be an easy one. And he could go back to …what's her name…

" I wasn't doing anything wrong." Her voice was thick with angsty hormonal emotion. " Dad said I could go."

How long did it take for Advil to kick in?

He rolled the gum around in his mouth. The taste was gone and the consistent chomping was probably what brought on his headache to begin with. Next to the little debutant beside him.

It was the quiet ones you had to watch out for that was a certainty.

He had been with the Stark's since Sansa was in middle school. She always kept to herself, had her small group of friends, played girly things he had no care to know about, and went to her room when most of the family was watching TV or playing a board game. High school hadn't changed her much except for the mounting calls from boys, more makeup, and less dolls to clean up.

Back from her first year away at college and now her true self was beginning to show he guessed. She dressed with the same bright feminine colors maybe a little more risqué for his taste, but her attitude was what rubbed him the wrong way. The superior edge, every word held a fresh wave of entitlement. Especially with him. He wanted to beat her bottom red or at least offer up the suggestion to her parents, but they had enough on their plate raising five children and running a successful enterprise.

Arya, on the other hand, was his girl.

The duo got along like two peas in a pod. As if they were blood kin. From the very first day when she asked him to toss around the football while he waited to go to a meeting with her dad, they had become inseparable. She was a spitfire herself, but with a tomboyish ease. Nothing fazed her. She was just low maintenance and fun to be around her.

Not at all like this one.

" Did you hear a word I said?" she rumbled in her chest, agitated with his silent treatment.

I'm your bodyguard princess, not your father. Take it up with him was what he wanted to say. But instead he gifted her with a black glare, one that made grown men back away and drop their weapons.

She had the decency to blush but she didn't break contact. In fact she looked content to keep going until one of them blinked like it was some fucking contest. He was the first to look away. Uncomfortable.

Her skirt was too high, her heels were a neck break waiting to happen and she was wearing too much fucking makeup for an eighteen year old.

" Are you going to tell my dad what you saw?"

The driver made a too quick right and Sansa fell against him. She held on to his bicep to steady herself and Sandor pushed her off the rest of the way not liking her touch on him.

The air in the small space suddenly stuffy, he unbuttoned the two top buttons of his shirt with one hand while lowering the window a bit for fresh clean air. He spit his stale gum out and raised the window leaving just a crack open so he could breathe. There was a whole bench of seating in this absurdly large vehicle and yet she had to sit right on top of him.

Was he going to tell her dad? Hmph. Was this an episode of some teen drama flick or something? Fuck that.

His next words would not sit well with her but that was not going to be his mess to clean up. " You disobeyed your father. So yes. I'm going to tell him," he informed her plainly. His vision on the road ahead.

She, of course, was immediately turning towards him, clutching at his elbow. He could practically feel the hesitation and panic rolling off her. Everything was life and death to women. Especially the young ones.

" Please…I swear, he said I could go out. I got invited to this after party and Joff said we wouldn't be there past my curfew. Neither of us realized we were there so long. It's not my fault…I wasn't driving," the panic bled through at the end of her explanation.

" Joff?" he questioned, watching her squirm under his scrutiny.

She gulped down hard and he could tell she was weighing her options. She went with her standard snotty face as of late. " My boyfriend."

Something about the way she explained herself made Sandor uneasy. Almost like a declaration …rubbing something in his face. Her chin was raised in a haughty manner, a dare, and for some inexplicable reason Sandor's eyes fell to her mouth. More specifically paying close attention to the shape of her lips.

Clearing his throat he pulled away from her desperate grasp. " Boyfriend," he muttered, wanting to roll his eyes but thought better of stooping to her adolescent level and watched as the buildings passed by them like a flipbook.

" He is my boyfriend." She sounded insulted now. " Whether father and mother…or you don't approve." He snorted at her accent of the word you and that further fueled her rampage of words. " I'm an adult. I've been away at school for a year now. I think I can handle having a boyfriend. It's not like my grades have slipped or I haven't let myself get involved in other activities. I wouldn't …I wont let him take over my life. I wouldn't do that again…" she ended softly, her eyes downcast, caught in a memory.

That had to be the most he had ever heard the little chirper say in all his days as a Stark employee. He used to tease her when she was young enough and still pleasant calling her a chirper or little bird because of how obedient and obliging she was to everyone around her.

He watched her now. The knot she was making with the loop of her pocketbook string. " Again?" He gruffly questioned. Not caring but for some reason the word spilled out. Curiosity got the better of him and this damn ride was lasting longer than he liked.

She reddened under the question, a bit caught off some guard she had been using as protection for the past countless years with him. She answered, her voice set in another time and place. " Yes. Again," she admitted with a bitter chuckle.

An odd notion to soothe her pricked at the corner of his dulling headache. Her long hair shielded her face from view, along with the multiple layers of defensiveness he didn't have the strength to battle. He was too busy working. He was too busy being distracted by her blush, wondering when that had become something more than just cute.

She used to turn bright scarlet whenever he called her those pet names but than somewhere between high school and realizing she was catching the eyes of the opposite sex Sansa started to show her distaste for the small endearment, huffing out an exasperated breath or turning her back to him whenever he uttered the phrase. He didn't fight her need for space to grow up so he backed off and took with him the little remaining bridge of civility between them.

" I-I…" she licked her cherry red lips. " I used to…well…"

Sandor shifted as far away from her as he could. He wasn't sure where she was going with this, but he certainly wasn't up for a night of baring souls or braiding hair. For fuck's sake they had to be almost home by now.

Rolling down the partition Sandor didn't hide the bark of irritation as he spoke.

" Where the bloody hell are we? I told you to take 47th it's quicker that way."

" Sorry sir," the arrogant little blonde shit met in his eyes in the rearview. He didn't look one bit sorry. " I thought you said take 42nd."

Biting down a curse Sandor got a slight inkling this guy was baiting him. " Why would I say that when 42nd is all tourists traffic and bullshit?" he gritted out deadpan.

The shrug of his shoulders was going to be his only answer.

" It won't be me you have to answer to kid. Better think of something to tell Mr. Stark when we get back." And with that he pressed the button up for the divider, letting his displeased glare speak the rest of the unsaid threat.

Sansa had turned back forward, unaware that her shiny black skirt had ridden higher on her thighs.

He planted her with a disapproving glare. " Fix your damn skirt." There was more bite in the sentence than there needed to be. He didn't know why he was being so harsh with her. She had just come back for summer vacation not two weeks ago. It wasn't like he had to deal with her antics around the clock.

Her watery gaze landed his way, sniffling as she straightened her outfit. Than wiping the moisture from under her pointy little nose. She was mad at him again now and for some odd reason the thought amused him.

" Joff likes the way I dress." She retorted, that princessy tinge laced in every syllable.

He didn't bother wasting breath on an answer.

" He said it's sexy." Her head tilted sideways at him, gunning for a reaction. " He says I'm the most beautiful girl he has ever met. He says I'm his and no one else's."

Rubbing the sides of his temple with his fingers, Sandor closed his eyes. " This Joff sounds like a fucking cunt."

" Don't you say that about him! You don't even know him!" She yelled, throwing her pocketbook at Sandor's arm than slapping him when he refused to respond.

Like a statue made out of flesh and blood, Sandor stayed still and lifeless, his body clenching hard unbeknownst to the firecracker flinging words like an out of control machine gun.

Tears filmed against the blue of her eyes, crystallizing them. " Why cant you ever just be nice to me…why cant you ever like what I like or c-care…"

That got a reaction. His head whipped around to hers. " What the hell are you talking about?"

She started this but now she seemed confused, almost bewildered by where she was taking this war of words. He was a shadow over her small frame, looming, demanding response and her defense kicked in overdrive. " It's doesn't matter," she smiled half heartedly, " I like him. He's a good man."

" Man." Sandor scoffed perversely. Pleased he had stoked the fires higher in her eyes. " He's no man. Not yet."

Her nostrils flared out like they had picked up a fowl scent. " More man than you will ever be," she goaded without the forethought for restraint.

She aimed to bruise but her words did not even leave a scratch. She was playing above her ability, a game of cat and mouse or maybe just trying to hurt the first available human that obstructed her from her pure undying love for whatever the prick's name was. None of it mattered to him. He couldn't care. He wasn't allowed the convenience to, but he could see, peeling back a layer of her with his eyes, that she wanted him to.

She was practically clawing at him for a reaction. And the very thought that she was trying so hard settled in his chest and made him want to fight back. Give her a nibble, just a taste and see how she'd like it.

He leaned in closer, expected a whiff of expensive alcohol saturated perfume but instead the air around him smelled of fabric softener, a clean just out of the dryer smell.

" If you were mine," he whispered with a rough edge, " Over my dead body would you be going out like that. And any real man would never let that happen." His gaze on its own accord raked slowly over her body, inching up every curve, touching every patch of bare skin with a tangible effect.

After a second of thick silence, he realized how close he had bent or perhaps she had scooted nearer in his fog of anger. Either way the small space was charged with an unnamable energy he didn't recognize. He was breathing hard from god knows what and she was wetting her lips again, her mouth dropping just the slightest hint open. Fuck.

Her breathing was shallower where his rose and crashed and settled around his lungs, squeezing hard.

He sat motionless, watching her again. Watching her little pink tongue dart out quickly in its nervous habit. " Sandor, I-"

The limo lurched over a bump and both Sandor and Sansa jumped hard in their seats, Sandor's overtly tall frame smacking against the wall and roof of the car.

" What the…" his hand slammed onto the controls at his right, rage making his fingers clumsy. " Are you ok?" he asked with a standard clinical edge, like a dentist after a root canal. Her hand was on her head. He had heard her smack against something but he wasn't sure what.

When she didn't answer he lifted a hand to inspect the possible bruise but stilled halfway. There was no need to touch her. Not now. Clenching his fist he let it fall between them.

" I'm fine," She spoke through a haze of pain. " I hit your shoulder," she chuckled as she winced. At least she was being a good sport about it for once. He'd check later to make sure.

He couldn't afford to enjoy her first real genuine smile as the partition rolled down to slow for his liking. " What the fuck are you doing? Are you a fucking idiot?

The driver didn't answer and when Sandor flicked a gaze into the rearview he saw panic written all over the man's face. The sweat on his brow, over his top lip. The grip he had on the steering wheel was white knuckled in fear. This asshole had a plan and it wasn't going well for him.

It was about to get a whole lot worse. Unclipping the gun in his jacket pocket, Sandor cocked it back and aimed it at him, his words smooth in their exit.

" Pull over. Now."

He heard Sansa beside him gasp in fright. She was going to have to attempt to be strong because he didn't have time to coddle her or explain.

"Pull over now or Ill blow your fucking brains all over the dashboard my friend." He saw the little pricks hand move for something and he wasn't taking any chances with her in the car.

Sandor shot him in the corner of his shoulder. The car swayed onto the sidewalk than steadied as he pulled the wheel hard to the right regaining the control he lost and tightening his hold even more. Blood oozed out black on his dark suit jacket and Sandor could tell he was biting back pain.

He definitely wasn't a rookie when it came to being shot. Too much composure for a first time. " What the fuck man…you shouldn't have fucking done that!"

" I said pull the fuck over."

" Fuck you," the driver spat. " I die you die man. So sit back and enjoy the ride because it's going to be a long one." Unwavering, Sandor changed his target, leveling the barrel of the gun to his head. The blood was pouring out faster, the wound in need of a tourniquet. The blonde's face was beginning to pale. Didn't matter how many shots you survived. Yeah the wound was superficial but in the end a bullet wound was a bullet wound.

His resolve was apparent with the unbending steel in his voice. " If you don't pull over in five seconds I'm going to shoot you in as many places as I can so you live long and die slowly."

The young buck was fast as he drew his 357 magnum out and careened around faster than a ten-year cop but Sandor was faster, firing and hitting the driver right in the back of his head. Blood and brains flew everywhere and Sansa screamed as the limo veered back and forth for a long second before crashing into a parked car and slightly bending sideways.

Good thing they weren't on a major street. The traffic had died down in the late night hours and wherever this joker was taking them he hadn't gotten very far. They were still in New York. Just past the city limits.

The girl was screaming, sobbing and shaking into her hands. They had to get out of there. That was his top priority. Keep her safe and get answers once she was out of harms way.

" Listen to me," he grabbed her by her arms and used the slick leather of the seat to draw her closer. He had not meant to sound brutish but time was of the essence. He was sure someone had witnessed the accident and had already informed the police. He could hear the sirens in the distance, but after all this was New York and that was an every day accompaniment.

She was shaking her head no when he hadn't even said a damn thing yet. " We need to get out of here. You need to do what I say, do you understand?

She peeked a look at the dead driver, his head was bent back awkwardly, his mouth gaped open like a muted scream was coming from his mouth and his eyes were wide, bulged in shock. The shit had it coming to him. He just wished he could have tortured him a little more before ending his life.

" Look at me," he ordered now, shaking her body and her mind back into the present. " The cops are going to be here any minute and we need to get out of here and hidden before they come sniffing around. Ok?"

Her nod was mechanical like pressing a button or swiping a credit card through. He wasn't sure she even knew what was really going on here.

He closed his eyes, seeking patience that he always short on." Someone wants us dead. Or as hostages. I need to find out."

" Us?" her blue eyes glistened up at him. She was so young, so innocent still.

" Yes…to get to your father and mother. I need to get you to a safe place," his hands squeezed harder in his meaning. " Don't fight me on his, Sansa."

She breathed out a long exhale, tears cascaded down her cheeks but she was beginning to come together, finally shaking her head and the ghosts away that seemed to be haunting her. " Ok."

He wasn't sure he trusted her. She fought him tooth and nail in the smallest most inconsequential matters but he didn't have time to dissect her intentions. " Let's go." He laid out his hand for her to take and she took it easily, cupping her hand into his and holding on tightly as if her life depended on it. Which it did.

For the first time that night Sansa actually listened to him. Sandor glanced around at his surroundings than back at the little red headed chirper. That was definitely a plus they needed.